the wounded
animal,
his prints of blood
leading
the dogs
to him,
shivers in
the white drift
of snow.
he waits, as
born,
alone.
life being
short.
death
being slow.
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real
experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
No comments:
Post a Comment